Of Clouds and Storms
by Sharn-sharn
Summary: They didn't ask to be hated. They didn't even ask to be born... but it didn't matter, they were still abandoned anyway. Prequel to Leaves in the Wind.
1. Prologue

**I don't know if anyone will read this, but this is a prequel of sorts to **

_**Leaves in the Wind **_**and **_**Fading Light**_**, meaning that it happened **_**before **_**those two stories.**

**It won't be a happy story, either.**

**. . .**

**Prologue**

Darkstar raised his head to the sky, sniffing curiously.

He could smell something crisp and cool in the evening wind.

It would rain soon.

A large, smug smirk covered his lips, and he silently swept his gaze over the camp.

He was sure everyone was asleep, but at that time, he couldn't care less.

They would wake up soon, they _had _to.

**. . .**

The little kit stared at his Mother's back in dismay.

He was sure that she was sneering, but by this point, he couldn't care less.

He knew it was a mistake when he called after her, as it was a mistake when he padded after her on tiny, unsteady feet.

He was tiny, half-starved, and without his Mother, he would die out here in the wilderness.

"M-Mother...!"

She froze, her back going stiff.

When he continued to call after her, he knew that he had made a grave mistake.

She swiftly dropped whatever she was holding, the thing hitting the ground with a soft whimper, and turned toward him faster than he could blink.

"What do you _want_?!" she hissed lividly.

He gazed back at her with wide eyes, taking in her snarl and her livid eyes.

Not for the first time, he felt afraid.

He looked at her almost shyly, mewing timidly, "W-Where are you going?"

Her snarl deepened, and she spat, "Away from you!"

And she advanced on him, her paw raised to strike.

He was confused, sure his Mother wouldn't hurt him, right?

When she still approached, he murmured, "W-What are you g-going to do?"

"What I should have a done a moon ago when I found that I was expecting kits!" she mewed, and she almost sounded mad with the way her words were going.

Instinctively, he flinched, his falling onto his back, his paws covering his face protectively.

It was the wrong thing to do.

His instincts only served to make her angrier.

She snarled, raising her paw into the air, and he panicked.

"Why would you hurt me?!" he wailed, piercing her with huge amber and green eyes. "Don't you love me?!"

This also appeared to be a mistake.

"Stupid kit!" she hissed. "Nobody will _ever _love you."

And then her paw descended.

He saw the blow first, but a moment later, he felt unbelievable pain explode on his face.

He whimpered, holding a paw to his face.

Why would his Mother hurt him? Didn't she love him?

"Let this be a lesson to you!"

And then she was gone.

He stayed there on the ground, feeling stunned, still holding a paw to his bleeding face.

Something mewled pitifully.

His eyes followed the sound, and he saw a tiny lump a few tail-lengths away stir.

It was the lump that his Mother- no, that _cat _dropped.

His face was stinging and thobbing horribly, and he constantly had to blink away blood from his left eye.

He still dragged his body over there anyway.

The scrap of fur blinked bright, vivid green and blue eyes.

"Are you my brother?" it whispered, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

The little kit knew that the scrap was his brother, and despite being only a moon old, he remembered another.

A little she-kit with the sweetest smile and laugh.

Their sister.

And despite the enormous pain and betrayal in his heart, he bent down and licked his brother reassuringly, tears streaming down his face.

"It's okay," he sobbed. "Everything's going to be okay."

But it wasn't.

And it never would be.

**. . .**

Darkstar growled in displeasure, shaking out his thick, dark tabby pelt.

Shaking it out did nothing.

The rain still came, and with the rain came cold, chilly wind that soaked him to the bone.

At least the patrol would be finished soon, he reminded himself.

But he was ShadowClan's mighty leader, and he couldn't show weakness.

Not to his damned apprentice, anyway.

His deputy, Grayclaw, suddenly appeared in front of him, and Darkstar growled, feeling the noise rumble in his chest.

"_What?!_ he hissed.

Grayclaw shuffled somewhat timidly, and ut struck Darkstar then how weak his deputy appeared.

Why did he even _choose _Grayclaw as his deputy?

He didn't remember.

_Oh wait_, Darkstar thought with a vicious smirk,_ he was the only choice I had. The others were too soft, too weak._

"I thought I heard somrthing," the ShadowClan deputy explained nervously. "It sounded like the crying of a kit."

"Oh?" Darkstar regarded his deputy with new interest. "Kits, you say?"

Grayclaw nodded, casting his eyes about fearfully.

Darkstar felt a chuckle rumble in his chest at the sight of the terrified ShadowClan deputy.

It really _was _too easy to scare his Clan into submission, it seemed.

"Take me to them," he ordered.

Grayclaw did as he asked.

When they arrived, it was near the Thunderpath, and by then, the rain was already starting to clear, the clouds giving way to a bright, near-full moon.

There were two kits slumped on the ground, thin to the bone and shivering with the cold.

Darkstar padded toward them, and it appeared as if they were just beginning to wake up.

The largest one- a kit with patchy grey fur, eyed him in distrust, and he huddled closer to his younger sibling.

Dried blood matted the fur on his face, standing out drastically.

"Who are you?!" the kit, being mindful of his brother.

"Me?" Darkstar returned smoothly. "My name is Darkstar."

The kit's amber and green eyes swam with wariness and distrust, and he backed away as the ShadowClan leader approached him.

"What's your name?" Darkstar asked in his kindest voice.

"I don't know," the kit shifted, continuing, "my Mother never gave me a name."

Darkstar glanced at the sky.

The moon was covered by a wisp of dark cloud.

That wasn't a good sign.

"What about your Father?"

"I don't know, Mother said that he didn't want us."

"Well," Darkstar mewed, "what your Mother wants doesn't matter right now. _I _want you, and you will come home with me."

"You're our Father?!" the kit demanded.

Darkstar smirked, as it really wasn't the case.

The kits wouldn't need to know.

"Yes," he murmured. "I'm your Father, Darkstar. And you are my sons."

"What's my name then?"

Darkstar didn't really look at the kit as he answered, "Your name is Shroudkit, from the clouds covering the moon. And your brother is Stormkit, from the savage storm that ravaged the area."

Shroudkit and Stormkit.

Like storms and clouds.

Yes, Darkstar decided, it suited them rather well.


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you for the reviews!**

**As I said before, this isn't a happy story, and it never will be.**

**It's meant to be serious, but it will have it's light hearted moments, and maybe some romance.**

**. . .**

**Chapter One**

"Where should I put them, Darkstar?" Grayclaw mewed, the sound somewhat muffled due to the scrap of fur dangling from his jaws.

If Darkstar's mouth wasn't full with a similar burden, he would have sneered.

Honestly, his deputy couldn't be _this _pathetic, right?

"Where do you think?!" the ShadowClan leader snarled. "The nursery, of course!"

The ShadowClan deputy merely whimpered in reply, and this time, Darkstar really _did _sneer.

"What did I say?!" he seethed, and in his rage, he dropped the kit dangling from its scruff.

The kit, the one with the grey fur, landed on the ground with a soft whimper, bracing his paws awkwardly so his bloodied face wouldn't take the brunt of the impact.

"And where is my apprentice?!" Darkstar demanded, his gaze rapidly swerving the ranks of his Clan. When any cat failed to answer him, he growled, "Where is Russetpaw?!"

It took a moment, but eventually, an apprentice that easily stood out amongst the others, turned his head to the ShadowClan leader.

His pelt was a dark-red, and his blue and amber eyes glared up at Darkstar reproachfully.

Darkstar smirked, all the while casting his glance to the quiet, distrustful kit on the ground.

"Russetpaw," Darkstar began, and his voice was a deep growl, rumbling low in his chest. "I have seen that you are fit to become a warrior. StarClan decrees that you will shed your old name, and from this moment on, you shall be known as Russetpelt."

ShadowClan cheered politely, but it was noticeably less dim than it usually would be if an apprentice was receiving their warrior name.

Darkstar knew that he hadn't used the correct words for his former apprentice's warrior ceremony, but he couldn't have cared less.

At least he wouldn't have to deal with an annoying, insufferable apprentice anymore.

That was the only good that came out of it.

Now, all Darkstar had to worry about was the kits.

So, with a smirk on his face, he announced, "ShadowClan, on this cold leaf-fall night, I found two shivering kits on the edge of the Thunderpath. They will be joining the Clan, and I will hear of _no _protests. Do you understand me? They are my sons, and they will be treated with the same courtesy as me."

His entire Clan nodded, too fearful to even _think_ of disobeying him.

Darkstat turned to his former apprentice, a glint in his eyes.

"Russetpelt," he mewed, his voice rumbling like thunder. "Your first duty as a warrior will be to take my son, Shroudkit, to Hollyshine's den. Then when Hollyshine has treated his face, you are to take him to the nursery. After that, you will sit your vigil."

Russetpelt simply bowed his head, though his multicoloured eyes remained narrowed.

Truthfully, Darkstar couldn't care less about the vigil, but it was tradition, and he couldn't deny tradition, though he barely believed in StarClan anyway.

Russetpelt walked with his tail between his legs.

**. . .**

The little kit barely fought the urge to sneeze.

His pelt clung to his skinny frame as he hung miserably from that ginger warrior's jaws.

He didn't know his name- he'd only been half listening to his Father's speech.

His face stung horribly, and to add to his list of bad things, he was utterly _freezing_!

And then his Father had ordered Russet-what's-his-name to take him to someone called Hollyshine.

The kit still couldn't believe it, though.

He had a _Father_.

An actual _Father_.

He still couldn't believe it.

And now he had _name_, too!

It really was too bad that he couldn't remember it.

The kit didn't bother to struggle, for he knew that Russet-what's-his-name was taking him somewhere where his face would be healed.

"Russet-" the kit broke off, confused.

He still couldn't remember the ending to Russet-what's-his-name's name.

Abruptly, the kit was dropped to the ground, and he winced at the not so soft landing.

"Hollyshine!" Russet-what's-his-name called.

The little kit looked around in wonder.

It wasn't like any other place that he had seen.

It was big and airy, and he noticed a dark-grey she-cat stumbling into the gloom.

Her fur was patchy and matted, but her amber eyes had a certain sheen to them that seemed to speak the depths of her compassion.

"Russetpaw?" her attention was then brought elsewhere, and she let out a sharp breath. "Russetpaw, who is this kit? I've never him before. And just _what happened to his eye?_"

Russet-what's-his-name stiffened, and he bit out shortly, "It's Russetpelt now, Hollyshine. And this is Shroudkit, Darkstar's so called _son_."

The little kit jerked up in wonder.

His name was Shroudkit?

He liked it.

A few moment's later, the grey-she-cat- Hollyshine, padded back with something clutched firmly in her teeth.

Then, without asking for permission, she firmly pressed it to his face.

Shroudkit hissed in surprise, instinctively jerking his head back. But Hollyshine held on fast, pressing her paw deeper and harder with every passing second.

Oh, the agony.

Shroudkit shut his eyes in resignation.

Hollyshine's paw disappeared.

"Russetpelt," the she-cat mewed. "Take him to the nursery, would you? And ensure that Oaktail will suckle him. He needs plenty of rest after that horrific head wound."

Russetpelt simply grunted in acknowledge, and for the second time that night, Shroudkit found himself swung into the ginger tom's jaws.

His face still hurt.

**. . .**

The kit hung there in resignation.

Everything had changed as he had known it.

He didn't even know who he was anymore.

The cat carrying him didn't bother to speak, and the kit didn't blame him.

So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then he was unceremoniously dumped onto something extraordinarily soft.

He heard a growl.

He sighed, pressing his cheek to the soft thing.

"What is this, Grayclaw?!" a voice screechee.

The kit groaned at the sound- it sounded like his _own _Mother.

But she was gone now, right?

"It's a kit, Oaktail," came a very dry, unamused voice. "What did you think it was?"

"Where did it come from?!"

The cat above the kit sighed, and he mewed, "Darkstar wants you to suckle him along with his brother."

Oaktail sounded smug, and she said, "I don't think I will. I barely have enough milk for Ashkit as it is. I won't go wasting it on some random kittypet."

Grayclaw sighed again, sounding long suffering. "They're Darkstar's sons, you see. Sp you kind of _have _to suckle them, lest you risk his wrath."

"Fine!" Oaktail snapped. Then, in a sneerimg tone, she said, "What's his name?"

"Stormkit."

The kit was surprised.

He had a name?

Even his Mother hadn't bothered with something as frivolous as that.

But he would be content.

He _was_ Stormkit, after all.


End file.
